


Identity

by orphan_account



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-05-29 16:48:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15077483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Stumble upon helpless, she joins the companion to repay her debt for her saving her life. Lost without a history, she makes her own memories that shape her among her new family. Even with her identity being revealed over time, she still chooses who she is.





	1. Wounded

**Author's Note:**

> A short story to introduce Alys.

Pleasant flakes of snow quietly land on her clothes and skin, melting to the heat radiating off her becoming nothing more than water soaking into the material and organ. The cold familiar breeze drafting along the land, pushing against her body as it lays on the thinly snow-layered ground. Unconscious. With her eyes closed veiling the hue of gold reflecting the sight of Sovngarde and hair sprawling underneath her in a messy long-untamed manner, gives the sight of being there for quite a while. No doubt that if, no one comes to her rescue or if she doesn’t wake up and find shelter in the next hour or so, she’ll die whether it’s from the cold, a predator or even oncoming the coming storm. To the woman’s fortune, not too far, wanderers travel the road. As they walk past the area of where she lays insensate, the strong aroma emitting from her body grabs the lycanthropics attention, to which one remains unaware.   
  
The two supernaturals share a look, as all three come to a halt the red-haired woman turns to the younger unaware one, “Njada, remain here with Farkas.”   
  
Njada nods her head in agreement to the red-haired woman's terms. “Careful, Aela.” She calls out as the woman as she begins to follow the strong scent of blood and something rancid which also, seemingly, smells divine. As she approaches the smell does, in fact, get stronger, to the point Aela feels the rush of nausea and the slight feeling she’ll pass out. Coming across the body, exposed to the elements, the sense of justice overcomes Aela and quickly rushes to the unconscious woman, pushing through the ungodly but godly smell. Making way, she regroups with her companions carrying the girl in her arms as if she’s a feather also overseeing her features such as the small scar on her lip. As she inspects the woman in her arm the source of where the blood is coming from revealing itself, the blood trickling down her arm indicating the wound on her back where she’s already giving pressure too. Feeling the long gashes across her back raises a couple of question. Quickly regrouping and having the conversation of bringing her back to the city, they continue en route with marginally more pace. 

Approaching Whiterun with the guards greeting them as Companions and politely opening the gate to them, silently honoring them for the hard they do from others who can’t or won’t do it themselves. Aela, Njada, and Farkas walk into the Temple of Kynereth meeting moan and groans of pain with a light stench of vomit and sickness, “Danica!” Aela calls out to the priestess who’s healing a wounded soldier, “We found her injured, most likely bear wounds on her back.”

“Leave them on the table,” The priestess says not looking up from her patient, yet removes a hand from a healing spell to point to a table. Aela moving to the said location, she returns to healing the wound. “Eduan! Tend to the girl.”

Watching as a young man, a mix between elven and Breton wearing a mage's robe rushes into the area, he approaches the table where the unconscious girl lays. Starting a healing spell in his hand, he flips her over to display the jagged wounds, most likely made by a bear. As he cast the spell of her, a hiss of pain escapes her lips, though she’s still in her dream state. All three thanking the priestess and apprentice from tending to the woman, they begin to trek to Jorrvaskr.

“Something was off about her, the wounded girl.” Aela, states to no one in particular although Farkas is the only other who understands what she’s talking about. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It will (hopefully) get longer. This is also my first fic posted on Ao3.


	2. A Deemed Moniker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In return for Aela, saving her life, as "joins" the Companions.

Everything's dull. The only sound is her beating heart that seems pressed against her ears, the only smell is faint blood that's been left up on her clothes, the only taste is the dried up saliva that's been yet to be wet, the only feeling is the cold table rubbing against her bared arms, and the only sight is darkness. Carefully, opening her eyes, she's met with the temple; too bright. Attempting to stand up, although everything in her body seems to shut down, her feet do reach the floor. Lifting off the table with determination, she quickly stabilizes herself, standing tall.

Everything's becomes normal. Or what she can consider normal. Hit with waves of reality, the putrid smell of death reaches her nose along with the irritating consistent groans coming with other patrons. Peering around the room, no one that seems in charge is available. So, she quicks find the door that leads outside and walks. Reaching the streets of the city filled with people who are determined to finish their daily task, the woman being overwhelmed with fear walks back into the temple alerting someone inside she's back.

"Ma'am." Eduan rushes up to her seeing her shivering with fear, "I'm Eduan the mage who healed you. Do you remember what happened?"

Her face fills with confusion as she processes the words, no memory of anything else other than the same three words repeated in a hasten tone. As she looks up to Eduan, her mouth opens and close repeated as she tries to find the words to relay what she's thinking. After a couple of seconds, the words finally come out, " _Bo, ziist-kiin._ " Before Eduan could ask a question she quickly interrupts, "That's all I remember."

Nodding his head with an understanding of the situation, she follows his lead to a chair in the temple away from the other people. Sitting her down with a gesture telling her to remain there. He leaves the estate return a couple minutes later with a red-haired woman, following close behind him.

"This is Aela, the woman brought you here."

"Thank you." She sitting woman quickly replies, being silent and respective to the other that are hurt or recovering in the temple. For a split moment, as the amnesic woman looks at Aela, she finds something familiar about her, more specifically her eyes as it has a dangerous fire burning in it. One that if the saying "If could looks could kill" were true, Aela should be arrest for mass murder.

Being confuse of what to say next, Aela lucky speaks first before the situation could get awkward, "No problem, it's my duty to help others," She pauses," with pay of course."

The foreign woman scrunches her face in confusion before saying, "With pay?"

In return to her Aela, gives a small expression of confusion as well. Now, it's obvious that Aela doesn't understand her situation of remembering anything, so they're in a position of cultural misunderstanding. Although, the light-brown haired woman doesn't exactly have a culture.

The woman quickly explains, "Sorry, it's just I'm... unfamiliar with how things... work."

Eduan, now leaving the conversation, assigning the task Aela to take care of the woman once more, whether removing her from Whiterun or taking her in, as long as it's out of the temple. Aela lightly grabs her arm but, having it in a tight enough hold where the nameless woman can't break from her grip without a fight. Which she doesn't believe she's capable of. Chaperoning her, out the door, where she left before, to the streets of the city, they make a hard left turn.

"Perhaps you can help out around the place-"

Thoughts race through the unnamed woman, as they walk closer to the destination. She begins to think about she could be condemned to being a servant all her life because someone saved her life. For all, she knows this woman a star pupil in the eyes of the public, but as soon as she enters her house she's a monster.

"-think of it as repaying me for saving your life."

"But I don't remember much or anything!" Aela stops walking in front of a dying tree with benches surrounding it. The woman stops as well stammering out a, "I don't even remember my name." Almost like a desperate cry for help in finding out who she is. Continuing the walk, they begin to climb up the steps to the mead hall. A longhouse with looks to be a boat for a roof with missing pieces.

"This is Jorravaskr, Alys." Once again the woman meets with great turmoil, as she hears the name said at the end of the sentence. "That can be your name. Alys. It suits you."

"What does it mean?"

Aela ignores her questions open the doors to the hall where they're before met with loud noisy chatter, most likely an argument about to turn into a fist fight along with the offbeat smell of sudor. Instantly Alys could tell the seeming chaos is quite normal around here as it doesn't bother Aela, but as they enter some people eyes turn to her as it quiets down a module. Trying her hardest to ignore some of the stares which make the hairs on her body straighten up.

"For a couple days you can help Tilma around the place. Talk to Vignar if you have any questions, he knows the whole history," placing a hand on Alys's shoulder in reassurance Aela continues with, "Then in a week, we can see if the Old Man will let you join."

Walking away, Aela joins with an older fellow, wearing armor with a symbol of a wolf. Wandering around the place for a couple of minutes, she begins to adjust her self to the new circumstance with the idea of being a slave forever flushing out of her system. Somehow, Aela made it clear that's she's allowed to leave as almost any time. Meeting Tilma, Alys begins to understand the establishment a bit more with a little bit of history. Grabbing herself a broom, Alys puts herself to work almost becoming exhausting from the amount of energy flowing throughout the building. Hours passing by, Alys learns the names of most of the Companions along with a short history lesson from Vignor, though he was very opposed to it.

The sense of danger abruptly fills her bones to the brim, her body suddenly shaking from some form of instincts, her heart pace quickens as she looks around the room. Finding the Dark Elf, Athis, and the muscled Nord, Torvar, about to go at it. Heavily breathing out a sigh, the only danger is a drunken fist fight.

Carefully, walking up to the two, she places a hand on both their shoulders, "You shouldn't fight." From the moment those words left Alys's mouth all the tension building in their bones to fight disappeared. As they nod their heads in agreement and return to their respective seats at the table, Alys begins to pick up the tankard and plates that had fallen unto the floor from the sudden forces of both companions rushing to fight. Feeling eyes on her like prey, she looks around the room while doing her task and find the smaller build in muscle twin glaring her down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there's anything wrong with my writing, you can leave a comment.


End file.
